Mary Quite Contrary
by BrooklynTrees
Summary: Mary Bennet married according to Jane Austen.  This is how I envisioned it.


**_Hello,_**

**If you are reading this story I wanted to let you know it will be pulled, as my story Another Stairway was pulled. I am not going to post at multiple sites anymore as I really don't have the energy for it until I am feeling better.**

**I am sorry for anyone who is enjoying it.**

**Thank you**

**Julie**

**Chapter 11**

Mary hesitantly opened the small parlour door, where her aunt last night had said she could break her fast, only to see her uncle at the table. "Good morning uncle. I did not know if you would still be here, my aunt said only that she would not be down until after ten." Mary smiled at her uncle before moving to the sideboard. Taking only a roll, she bypassed the jam and butter and nodding to the maidservant requested a cup of coffee.

"Good morning to you niece." Bertie Philips set aside his paper and rose, only to sit back down when Mary returned to the table. "Yes your aunt will not stir below stairs for at least another hour. Your father said you keep early hours, so I wanted you to feel welcomed." He moved his paper and nodded to the Letty to refresh his own cup before gesturing towards the door. "That will be all for now. You may return again shortly."

The maid nodded and quietly departed and Bertie looked closely at his niece. Her hair had been pulled into a makeshift bun, not as stylish as the braided cornet of yesterday, but not as severe as she normally dressed it either. He had thought she was looking very fine last evening, though being so ill days before. Today though she was very pale and had deep shadows like purple half moons under each eye. He wondered if coming to stay was indeed in his niece's best interest. She was such a solemn girl; she had ever been such, reserved as a nun and sometimes just as silent.

"Thank you uncle. I do feel very welcome. I do hope I am not keeping you from important matters of business." Mary was apologetic as she tore the roll into smaller pieces, making a small pile on her plate.

Clearing his throat, he moved the sugar dish closer to his niece. "Nothing so important as you Mary. It is good you are here, though I think you did not sleep well did you?" He queried gently.

"Oh! No indeed uncle. I am sorry but I suffered from unsettling dreams, I fear that the tonic is the culprit. I do not wish to take again the tonic that Mr. Payne left for me uncle. It disturbs my mind greatly." Mary shook her head, declining the sugar and then firmed her shoulders before looking to see if her uncle would argue the point with her.

"Well Mary, your father left very strict instructions. No piano playing, no studying sermons and such, and that you partake of fresh air a little each morning and evening. He did not speak of the tonic. So perhaps, since you find it causes you more harm than good, you need not take it this evening and we will see how you do. Are you in agreement with this niece?" Mary nodded gratefully and the first small bite of roll ended in her mouth. "Perhaps we might keep this matter between us Mary? I do not wish your aunt to feel that she must ensure you take something meant for your good, or for you to deny her attempts to look out for your welfare. I would wish to please you both."

Mary pondered if this was a deception. Was it wrong to not share _all_ with her aunt? Though her uncle made a very good point, as her aunt would indeed _insist_ she follow all Mr. Payne's directions. Yet Mary also felt, after such troubled thoughts as she had had last evening after taking the tonic and then the horrible dreams that had haunted her throughout the night, that in this one instance better to remain silent on the matter completely, than risk an out-and-out falsehood to her aunt. In this manner, she would not have to take something that so disturbed her; neither need she lie or upset her aunt.

In addition there was the added benefit that she could resume her normal routine. She felt unsettled in that she had not been able to devote herself to prayer as she normally would of an evening, and again this morning she had unpleasant thoughts lurking at the back on her mind during her morning ritual. Besides, a repeat of such actions as had occurred last evening might damage her Bible. She had a small bruise on her left side when upon waking after a fitful night; she found her Bible was under her. She could not believe she had slept on it. How terrible if she had damaged it with her negligence.

"Yes thank you uncle. I think it best if nothing more is said on the matter." Mary felt a burden shifted off her shoulders, she took another bite of roll. Taking a sip of the bitter brew, she smiled as her uncle raised a questioning glance towards the cream pot and sugar dish. "No, no uncle. I thank you but Mr. Jones had mentioned once he thought plain coffee very good for the digestion and to ward off complaints or illness of that nature. I am pleased to have a cup of plain coffee each morning."

"Ah Mr. Jones, is he enjoying his stay in Bath do you think Mary? I think many here will be glad when he returns. Nothing to say against Mr. Payne, indeed it was very good of him to come out of retirement to spell Mr. Jones." Bertie added more sugar to his own coffee before looking towards his niece. "And yet, we have grown accustomed to Mr. Jones."

Mary had eaten just half of the bits of roll on her plate, before sighing and gently pushing it away. "Yes uncle, he did take very good care of Jane last year. I know he was very good to our tenants this spring. Lizzy said as much when she took Jane's role when she left for Town. Before Lizzie left for Kent, I know she mentioned to father how very fortunate we are to have Mr. Jones. It _is_ nice he is able to spend time with his daughter in Bath, and to become a grandfather."

"Ah and do you take over for Elizabeth now Mary?" Her uncle queried.

"Oh no indeed uncle! Elizabeth asked that I do so, thinking better me than Kitty as she catches every inflammation or illness, but instead Mrs. Hill will visit with the tenants as a favor to Lizzy. Mother does not care for that chore you know and Mrs. Hill told Lizzy it gives her a nice break." Mary flushed to recall how adamant she had been when refusing her sister's request. She had flatly refused to take up the visits to the sick, offering instead to oversea the maids in the kitchen, something she quite enjoyed, so that Hill might have no worries. Elizabeth had been very angry at her intransigence she knew, but upon seeing how immovable Mary was, had conceded that Mrs. Hill would suit much better than Mary anyway.

Bertie smiled. "Yes, yes, that is very good. About Mr. Jones, fine indeed to become a grandfather, and soon maybe the same might happen for my brother. You are all nearing an age to marry. How does Jane's visit go in Town? Has she met Mr. Bingley again or any other young men?"

Mary bit her lip and considered her reply. Well she knew that many in Meryton, not just her uncle, wondered at Jane remaining unwed, especially when Mr. Bingley had made his interest so well known. Jane was so lovely and so good a person; many did not understand the delay. Mary could not, no would not, tell anyone of what she had heard discussed between Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst at the Netherfield ball.

Clearing her throat and with an apologetic glance at her uncle she replied. "I do not think Jane has met Mr. Bingley or any other young men uncle, or at least not that she has written home to my mother about." Mary squirmed a little in her seat, discussing her sister's matrimonial prospects smacked of gossip to her and she was very uncomfortable to think she was acting as the sort of woman warned about in Timothy…"_gossips and busybodies, saying things they ought not to_." Ducking her head slightly, she bit at her lip. Well she knew Miss Bingley would do all she could to keep Jane from _ever_ encountering her brother in Town, though she dare not confess to eavesdropping; nor could she speak of the ugly things the sisters had said about the Bennet family. The shame of eavesdropping at the ball had so tormented Mary that she had added an additional half hour to her prayers for a week.

"Well, what will be will be, will it not Mary. I do hope Mary that you will do as asked and take a long walk this morning. Perhaps check out the shops or walk to the church? But no reading or playing of the piano." Bertie stood and moved to kiss his niece fondly on the cheek. "We are very glad you are doing so much better niece, but please if you are not to take the tonic, do follow the rest of the treatment Mr. Payne has advised. We should not wish you to suffer a relapse." So saying he bid her a good morning and departed.

Moving to the window, Mary watched shortly thereafter as her uncle walked towards his offices. His clerks would be already about their work and her uncle was a diligent man, he liked to remain abreast of all that occurred, even the smallest of details. Sighing she looked towards the small clock in the corner cabinet. It lacked another thirty minutes till nine and Mary considered that if she left now, perchance it would be the best time to visit the church since she would not be allowed to read or play. Her aunt would want her here later in the day, to greet any callers, so perhaps it was best she remain close at hand.

She hesitated; Meryton would be very busy as mid-week was often a hectic day. She did not welcome thinking of the soldiers, farmers and all who would have business this day. They would fill the streets and shops, as this was one of the mornings the soldiers did not have exercises or maneuvers per their Colonel's orders. Her sisters would welcome the frenzy, but it was anathema to Mary. She shied away from activities in town on any day, but mid-week and Saturdays were the worst sort of day to attempt any business in town. But what was she to do, walk in the small garden at the back of house. Perhaps the small kitchen garden would need to be prepared for planting and she could be of some help there? Mayhap her aunt had some linen that needed tending to, that she could work on as she sat outside? Oh, it was very frustrating to think of the waste of her day, as she normally spent at least two hours at the piano; time, which would now have to be filled elsewhere.

Footsteps and voices from the door in the corner drew her attention and Tilly and Letty both entered. "Ah Miss Mary, if you be finished here, I am goin' to place an order for fowl, I would be glad to walk part of the way with you if you've a mind to leave soon?" Tilly was well aware that Miss Mary was to take the air this morning and she had assured Mrs. Philips that she would ensure the young lady did as directed; it only remained to prod the girl out of the house. Her good friend Mrs. Hill, had oft mentioned how Miss Mary was often underfoot, forever seeking refuge in a room Mrs. Hill or the maids had just begun to clean, whether to avoid either her mother or her sisters Mrs. Hill did not know.

Letty began to clear the table and she almost felt pity for their guest as she looked doubtfully out the window. She wished she had the chance to just gallivant around town, instead of laying fires for later, making beds and polishing. Mary Bennet obviously did not want to brave the bustle of town, but the housekeeper had orders from both Mr. and Mrs. Philips and she meant to carry them out. Tilly had a plan, and had prepped Letty before coming upstairs. She thought it best to appeal to Mary's sense of duty, maybe entice her with a bit of scripture. Given all they knew of the third Bennet daughter, it promised the best results. The housekeepers voice interrupted Letty's musings.

"We are to be busy in the mornings are we not Miss Mary, as the Lord intended? Being useful and such, sowing seeds early in the day?" Tilly queried.

Mary looked at her uncle's housekeeper and questioned "Isaiah 17:11 Tilly? '_I__n the day shalt thou make thy plant to grow, and in the morning shalt thou make thy seed to flourish: but the harvest shall be a heap in the day of grief and of desperate sorrow._"

"Aye, the first part Miss Mary. I be thinking we plant our seeds this morning, so we can harvest later this afternoon." Tilly winked at Letty before glancing back at Mary, who gazed back solemnly.

"I do not believe that is what the scripture is referring to Tilly." Mary paused for a moment, her eyes starting to light up, but before she could begin her instruction, the housekeeper interrupted.

"Oh does it mean something different Miss Mary? You are just the one to ask I be thinkin' as Mr. Hay-Smyth he oft times seems too busy when such questions are brought to him." Tilly waited and could see that Mary was flattered to be asked; little matter that Mr. Hay-Smyth was well known to spend his time with his feet propped on his desk with some lurid novel, instead of the good book, clasped in his hands. He had no time for questions about scripture and he was indeed as lazy and shiftless as any man of the cloth Tilly had ever encountered. He flattered Miss Mary Bennet shamelessly though, as he could then ask her to tend to tasks in the church that he should be doing.

Tilly nodded at Letty who hurried back through the door to fetch her hat and shawl and with a gentle hand on Mary's arm directed her towards the front hall. "It would be nice to know what the verse does mean Miss Mary, and at the same time I was meanin' to ask you about the vinegar Letty mentioned you wanted Miss Mary? How much would you need? We have a fair store of it. Let us head towards the shops and you can explain to me what is meant by that verse and we can talk of any items you might be wishing for your room and then maybe you can walk onto the church."

Hoping to delay the well-intentioned lecture long enough to get her charge outside, Tilly began to move towards the door, leaving Mary with no choice but to follow. Her desire to correct the housekeeper on the proper meaning of that particular scripture was evident not only to Tilly but Letty too, who hurried from the kitchen, hat and shawl in hand, struggling to hide her smiles. The housekeeper was hastily reaching for Miss Bennet's bonnet and gloves, even as she moved closer to the entry door. Mary had just begun to lecture the housekeeper when Letty, who had hastily draped Mary's shawl over her shoulders as Tilly propelled the young woman out the door, could finally let loose the giggles that could no longer be contained.

Letty ran to the window, watching as Miss Bennet looked earnestly at the housekeeper, talking all the while, as Tilly led her toward the main thoroughfare. She could not contain her laughter as she watched a long-suffering expression steal over the housekeeper's face before the pair moved out of sight. Miss Mary was a nice enough girl, never any bother at all during family dinners, in fact after Miss Jane and Miss Lizzie, she was quite Letty's favorite but oh how she did get a bee in her bonnet* sometimes.

Turning, she hurried to the table because even though the housekeeper was a good God-fearing woman and never missed Sunday services, she doubted her mood would be improved after a lecture on the meaning of scripture from her employers' niece. It would be best to have a good handle on all the chores before they returned.

Mary walked slowly towards the church, after leaving Tilly at the shops. What an interesting discussion they had shared. She had not even minded the crush of people in Mr. Bell's shop, her mind more agreeably engaged on speaking with Mr. Hay-Smyth about her own views of Isaiah. Mary felt very good after leaving Tilly to complete her chores. How very satisfying to explain the scripture to one seeking knowledge of the Lord's words. Oh to have been a man, if she had been Mary knew that she would have desired to serve the Lord. Though if she had been born a boy, she dearly hoped Jane or Lizzie too would have been one also, so that she would not have been tied to Longbourn.

Good heavens, stopping on the street, she was taken aback to think how all their lives would be so very different if any of them had been the long-awaited son instead of daughters. Was this why her mother was always so high-strung and anxious? Why her father had given up what little interest he had had in the estate shortly after the birth of Lydia? Why Jane always tried so hard to please and Lizzie to spend so much time learning what a son might learn, to spend time with their father? How startling really. Mary seldom questioned the motives behind the actions of her family and to do so now brought her to a standstill.

Frowning she wondered too, if her father had wished for a brother, so that he might have continued his studies or have remained at school sharing his love of knowledge for all of his life. He was not _very _interested in Longbourn, this they all knew. How very strange that she had never considered this before. Her father she knew in many ways considered Lizzie almost as a son, he shared so much more of himself with her, than with the rest of his daughters. Not only because she was so clever either. She wanted to talk of things, and the meanings behind them. She could speak on so many subjects; she had even caught Mr. Darcy's interest, in Mary's opinion. Lizzie would not have realized, she had disliked the man so, but Mary thought he was just as interested in her second sister as Mr. Bingley had been interested in Jane.

Mary knew that she was intelligent too, but not like her father or her sister. Considering it, was she only _learned_? She liked to know things, but her interests were very limited, she knew this of herself. Lizzie, she thought was something more, Lizzie not only took in all sorts of information, but questioned its source, it's impact. Was this why her father was so dismissive of her own intellect? That Mary limited her quest for knowledge to God's words, his wishes for all his beings and how a body might improve themselves to be all that the Lord wanted of them. Mary had read the Bible many many times, she read religious tracts from many different men of the cloth, but she had less time for philosophers or poets. Was this why her father never sought her opinions?

Jane, Kitty and Lydia, none of them ever really read much, other than the latest fashion periodicals or occasionally the gossip sheets. Though in thinking about it, Jane read quite a lot of their father's books on herbs and herbal remedies. Mary knew she had their grandmother Bennet's old journals and household diaries. Even Kitty spent many hours over patterns and examples of embroidery, wishing to make beautiful things or improve not only her clothes but also her sisters. That too took intelligence, to see how to make something beautiful out of strands of silken thread and bolts of cloth.

Did she really know her family at all? The idea that she did not really know them at all left Mary questioning every thing in her world. Why now? Was it because she could not just fade into the background? With both Jane and Lizzie away, she had been propelled to the forefront. It was not a comfortable place to be. She was not a seeker of attention. Not like Lydia was. Lydia who wanted someone, anyone who was not their mother to see her worth. Lydia too was intelligent; she always knew best how to occupy their Gardiner cousins. That took skill, a skill Mary knew she did not possess. As much as she loved her cousins, and she did, they often had her scurrying to her room when they made extended stays.

Looking around, Mary hoped no one had noticed her inattention to her surroundings. She so disliked bringing any notice to herself. It made her very uncomfortable to know people were looking at her. Looking so often involved judging and she more often than not came up wanting, not only with her mother and her father, but with everyone.

Continuing on to the church, Mary pondered why all these strange thoughts stirred her mind so. She did not welcome these strange feelings and suspected the upset of her brain last Sunday had done some lasting damage. Or was it that dreadful tonic of Mr. Payne's that was causing all this mischief? She resolved then and there to consider it no more, hopefully she could pour the remainder of the tonic in her chamber pot and none would be the wiser.

Approaching the church doors, she said a hasty prayer and hoped Mr. Hay-Smyth would be open to discussing Mr. Fordyce's view of modesty with her. Opening the vestibule door, Mary was shocked to find herself almost in the arms of Mr. Jonathan Stanton as he exited.

"Miss Bennet!"

* _If anyone is interested "a bee in his bonnet" is thought to be Scottish in origin. One of its first citations was in _Reverend Philip Doddridge's _Letters_, 1790. _Caps worn by men and boys in Scotland were called bonnets when the expression was coined. More of this type of information is at one of my favorite sites _. . _I could spend all day looking up information there._


End file.
